"Draco?"
"Yes?"
"The ring that you gave Pansy..."
"Yes?"
"You really loved her?"
"I still do."
Hermione pursed her lips, and the hurt flashed in her eyes. "You can't love two people."
"Do you love your parents?"
"Of course." She was surprised by the question.
"Then you love two people."
She struggled to find a problem with this, and couldn't. Still uneasy, she looked blankly at the wall in front of them, and the seat that was empty, as they were sitting on the same one, holding hands. The Head Prefect compartment of the train was private and closed off, and Draco and Hermione both knew what people must think they were getting up to. But in all honesty, they'd simply been talking over the entire year at school as the clickety-clack of the train wheels on the rails created a soothing background noise. The compartment was made for four people, like the others, but the doors had no windows, and the interior was slightly better-looking.
"I love you too, you know," Draco told her softly, as if commenting on the color of her shirt - which happened to be green, which suited her not quite so much as red.
He expected no answer - while he had been prepared to say he loved her since before their second kiss, she was a lot more skeptic. But, to his surprise, she said immediately and with no hesitation, "And I love you."
"You do?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Is it just me, or is this star around my neck beating to your heartbeat?"
He smiled at her and squeezed her hand gently. "Hermione?" he asked after a minute, incapable to keeping the question to himself.
"Yes?"
"Do you still love Ron?"
She sighed. "Like a brother." She paused. "But... I can't throw away eight years' worth of being best friends and being by the other's side. We're a family, Drake, Harry, Ron and I. Maybe not by blood, but we're a family. And families love each other, no matter how annoying their fights get."
He nodded, thankful that she was being so honest with him.
"Draco?"
"Yes?"
"What do you want to do with your life?"
He thought about it. "I have no clue."
There was a moment of silence.
"What do you want to do?"
"A number of thigns," she said. "Be a Healer, an Auror, an Inventor... I'd like to revolutionize the Department of Rights and Welfare of Non-Wizarding Magical Creatures at the Ministry."
"There is no Department like that. There's just Control of Magical Creatures."
She smiled faintly. "I know."
He smiled back to, just the corners of his mouth twitching. "What would you invent?"
"Spells, abilities with mirrors..."
"Mirrors?"
"Oh, yes," she said seriously. "I think that you can communicate through mirrors - Sirius's mirror he gave Harry proved that - and you should be able to travel with the big ones, go through one and step out another. They're amazing."
"They're only amazing becuse you see yourself in them," he said, jumping at the chance. She blushed. She squeezed his hand gently, her chest swelling with happiness. She snuggled closer to him, their shoulders together, and she laid her head on his comfortably, enjoying the way her head fit into the side of his neck.
"Draco?" she asked suddenly.
"Yes?"
"When will we see each other?"
There was a pause. "Well... I'm living with Aunt Andromeda and Teddy now, so I figure we'll see each other often."
"You'll write to me?"
"Of course." He seemed surprised she would question that.
"I'll miss you."
Draco sighed heavily and shifted himself so his back was against the wall and his legs were under her, and her head was lying on his chest while she sat on his lap comfortably. He locked his hands above her lower stomach, around her waist. "Some day, you won't have to miss me, because some day, I'm going to marry you, and we'll live in Malfoy Manor together and raise children, and... I'll even re-do that particular room," he said, and she giggled, but then exhlaed at the weight of his statement. Afraid she had rejected him somewhat, he waited anxiously for a reply.
"You'll have to hang the paintings in the room," she said, her voice distinctly harder than before, and she remembered the day David's will had been read.
"I need Miss Granger, Professor." Kingsley spoke respectfully, but noncommitally. Hermione looked to Slguhorn, hoping he'd say no - she didn't want to go anywhere and she didn't want to leave Draco.
"Of course," said Slughorn, nodding to her ad going back to explaining how to measure correctly - Hermione had enjoyed the lesson thoroughly, picking out every mistake the teacher's book had made and elaving him flustered. She realized now she shouldn't have - it had only made him more willing to be shot of her. But she kissed Draco quickly on the cheek and rose to leave, her arms beginning to encircle he books.
"Leave them here," said Kingsley. "This won't take long."
Hermione obediently dropped her arms and manuevered out of the seats, between tables and people that looked curious, but didn't care enough to ask. Hermione was curious, too, and that is what made her follow Kingsley out into the hall. When they'd reached a certain point away from any listening doors or rooms, Kingsley pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket, and Hermione recognized the writing on it immediately. David's.
"Do you know what this is?"
"No."
"It's Professor Yasmen's will."
Hermione's heart thudded loudly against her ribcage. "Why did you call me out here?"
"Because he bequeathed everything to you."
Hermione's eyes were ready to pop out of her skull, and a lump swelled in her throat. "Everything?" she croaked, disbelievingly.
"Everything," said Kingsley, nodding and handing her the parchment.
"He left you quie a few things, did he not?" Draco asked noncommitally.
"Everything," said Hermione quietly, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Every last thing, from his largest painting to the smallest quill." Her smile widened in appreciation of her deceased friend, teacher, partner and confidante. "And Mcgonagall left us both half of everything she had, minus her wand, which she gave to Harry, do you remember?"
"How could I not?" he asked her, his tone close to the same laughter hers was, and he remembered.
"Draco followed the Minister to Hermione, who was clutching a piece of parchment and smiling like the sun. Glad to see her so happy, but noticingt the revered silence in her eyes, he did not grab her hand, as was usual upon their meetings, and he did not kiss her, usual when they'd greet each other.
"You were both close to McGonagall?" he asked them.
Hermione looked awkward. "We were," she said, "Me closer than Drake - I mean Draco, and Harry closer than me."
Kigsley nodded. "Reasoable, seeing as how she left him her wand."
"What?" asked Draco, shocked. Leaving a wand to somebody in a will was a serious form of showing your gladness of their existence and role in your life. He supposed everyone was leaving their wands to Harry Potter in their wills these days, but not many actually reached him, as the Ministry knew enough to keep that many wands locked away from where small children might grab them in the future.
Kingsley nodded. "And she left the two of you half of everything else she owned."
"Wow," Hermione said, as Draco just stared. "I wonder if Lavender left me anything?"
"She didn't, though," remarked Draco. "If she had, they would've told you before Funeral Day."
Hermione sighed, and Draco worried that he'd crossed a line, but in reality, she was remembering the ceremony.
"For this day, when we celebrate the lives of those who lived, we also recognize the end of the Second Wizarding War. The three people who have been marked down in history books across the world are here to speak today, and to graduate in a later ceremony, and have prepared individual speeches."
Kingsley stood to one side of the stage, and allowed Harry to rise from beside her to talk. The crowd roared as Harry rose, cheering on the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the reason it was over at last. He walked to the stage, and Hermione, as practiced, flicked her wand and amplified his voice. The crowd fell silent.
"Tonight," he started, shaky, and nervous, watching as the Weasleys and Ginny and her parents and Hagrid all started crying, "we mourn David Yasmen, Minerva Mcgonagall, Lavender Brown, and almost one hundred others who have died. We grieve for Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, who were kissed by Dementors for changing their biggoted views to accepting ones when they found their son was dating my sister over there." The crowd reacted instantaneously, some hissing, some booing, others cheering, and stilothers crying harder. "Not by parentage, but she's my sister, there's no doubt." He smiled back at her, still shaky, and she grasped Ron's hand fretfully, a worry line creased into her forehead. Draco, in the very back, was getting some supportive and some very dirty looks, but his eyes were on the speaker and occassionally the sister of which he spoke. "Tonight," he said, "Me, my sister and my brother and soon-to-be brother-in-law -" he nodded to Ginny with a small smile "- are graduating, as Kingsley - I mean the Minister - pointed out. We're leaving Hogwarts, our home for six years and whom she fought to protect last year. We're leaving the best Headmaster ever's grave, we're leaving the best Headmistress ever's grave, and we're leaving behind all the wonderful teachers, classes and students. But we'll never be able to leave everything. A small part of Hogwarts will always remain with us. Hogwarts taught us who we are and taught us how to control ourselves... somewhat, I still have trouble with that." Nobody laughed. "Oh, well. The point is, I love this school and it's people and it's crazy ghosts and it's insane pets and the petty fights people get in over stupid and untrue gossip ad rumors. I never thought I'd miss being called a loon so much."
"We can help you there, mate," Ron called to him, and Harry broke into a grin when the crowd laughed.
"You see?" he demanded of the crowd, which immediately sobered, all shakiness gone now. "You can laugh! Don't you think if they were still here, they'd want you to laugh? George," he said, adressing the now-not-a-twin in the front row, still crying, "Fred wishes you'd stop being so sad, I'm positive. I'm also fairly positive he'd be waving your own ear in your face if you could see him." The crowd laughed again.
Harry raised his arms as if hugging the world. "Do you not see this Great Hall? Do you not feel the deceased walking around you? And no, I don't mean the ghosts," he said. "They're dead, but they're not gone. Not if we love them. They'll never be gone - not as lng as those who remain are loyal to them."
"He really sold it, didn't he?" Draco asked her. Hermione smiled.
"Yes," she responded, and then sighed. "I suppose you're not going to the wedding?"
Draco sighed too. "I hve so many affairs to set in order... my parents led really screwed-up lives for a while." He scrunched up his nose. "Then again, so did I." He relaxed his face. "It was nice to see their bare left arms before they were burried, though."
Hermione's fingers traced his left arm fondly and he got goosebumps from her touch.
"Your parents were ready to accept me," she said.
Draco sighed. "I know. She was setting me up for a wife when I sent her the letter, and I never got a response... I realize now she was prbably trying to convince my dad the whole time, and he was finally caving in when... when..." He couldn't finish.
"Shh, sweetheart," said Hermione, twisted so she lay with her back to the wall and her face looking at his slightly sideways. Her warm chocolate eyes brought a sort of comfort that really agitated him, for some reason, but her touched soothed that, calmed him down, and he found he couldn't be upset now, not with her acting like this.
"When do you think your parents will forgive me?" he asked smoothly, arching one eyebrow,trying to forget the topic of conversation.
Hermione frowned. Her parents had been very angry with Draco, because it was his uncle that had attacked her, his aunt who had tortured her, his parents who had tried to turn her in when she was running and because of him, she'd been subject to lethifold attacks. No matter how hard she tried, they refused to speak to him or aknowledge his presence whenever he was near her, talking to her. They wouldn't accept his apologies, they wouldn't allow her even to mention his name or that he was a good person around them. Hermione dispaired of ever getting them to come around. She'd begun sneaking out to see him at night, becuase her parents' refusal to accept him whenever she mentioned she had plans or a date almost physically hurt her, and made her very depressed and sad. "They will... eventually," she said. "When we're married, most likely."
"Hey Hermione?"
"What?"
"Life sucks."
She grinned at his playful tone. "It brought us together," she reminded him.
He grinned back. "Okay. Life usually sucks."
Hermione kissed him gently, knowing a playful kiss would lead to something anyone could barge in on and it would be severely embarassing. His lips sent the electric sparks running through her veins and attacking her limbs, making them oulled him tighter, closer, his body heat and hers separated by two thin layers of clothing. Her heart stuttered, and then beat six times faster, and the star began throbbing an implusive beat against both of their ribs. Pulling back when his hands began sliding down her waist, she smiled mischievously, and then her smile froze as she remembered something.
"No, Hermione. You were the help. Without you, Harry and Ron wouldn't have lasted a day looking for Horcruxes. Without you, Draco would have -"
"Drake?"
"Yes, 'Mione?"
"If I hadn't come along, what would have happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" his eyebrows pulled together adorably, as they did when he was confused.
"David said, on that day, that without me, you would have..."
"Would have what?"
"He never finished his sentence."
"Ah." Draco thought for a moment. "Probably starved to death."
"Draco!"
"What?" he said, eyes wide at her furious outburst.
"Why on earth would you starve yourself?"
"Well, Pansy was dead, why bother eating?" he shot back, livid within one second. "I didn't love you yet, Hermione, I'd rather be dead with Pansy than alive with those I didn't love."
"Then why didn't you just use the Killing Curse?"
"Becuase subconsciously, I valued life more than I realized, and I also knew, somewhere deep in my mind, burried under grief and loss, that Pansy wanted me to keep living!"
Hermione blanched. "It was all for Pansy?"
He groaned, his arms elaving her waist and his fingers running through his hair, stressed. "Yes, it was for Pansy," he said. "I didn't love you. Yet. Hermione, yet! You can't possibly think anyone could begin to rival you?"
Draco could tell Hermione was already calming. "Sorry," she said meekly, leaning into him once more. "I love you."
"I love you too."
